Ambushed by M.E. McAndrews
Chapter 34
Olivia
jumbled mess of confusion and uncertainty. I thought I had finally found someone I could trust, someone who would be there for me, but now, Bella or Izabella—or whatever the hell her name is—her betrayal hurts so much I feel as though I'm suffocating under its weight. The ghost of my husband still haunts me, and I'm not sure I can take it anymore. I’m lost and alone, unsure of what my next step should be.
The storm finally passes, and the world outside my window is quiet, but I give up on the idea of sleep and throw back the covers before climbing out of bed. I pace the room, turning the events of the night-and the past several weeks-around in my head, trying to make sense of everything that has happened.
The thought of being cut off from Austin appeals to me. It sounds so nice, so peaceful. Free from all these complicated emotions. And everything I know tells me he's the cause of all of it. If he were just gone, it wouldn't be so hard.
I take a deep breath, trying to clear my head. I give up on trying to see things clearly, and just make my way back to the bed, taking my sweatpants off. I throw back the covers and slide back in between the sheets, laying down on my side.
Suddenly, a piercing ring blares through the stillness of the room. My alarm. The sound is deafening, a relentless screech that drills into my brain. I rub my temples, trying to shake off the disorientation and confusion. But the alarm only grows louder, filling the room with its piercing screech.
I stretch out to reach the small alarm clock, its red lights flashing in time with the blaring screech. I lunge, my fingers landing hard on the snooze button. The alarm silences with a soft beep, leaving only the sound of my own ragged breathing in its wake.
I forgot. I've got a job interview this morning at a coffee shop.
I force myself hurriedly out of bed and shuffle into the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face in an attempt to wake myself up. I can't worry about Austin and Bella, not anymore. I need to focus on what comes next for me.
They are both out of my life for good. That’s what I've decided.
I get dressed, opting for a simple outfit of jeans and a blouse, and head to the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee.
The coffee helps, but only a little. I still feel like I'm operating on autopilot, my thoughts foggy and my movements slow. I force myself to push past the fatigue and throw on some bronzer and a few quick dabs of mascara before grabbing my bag and rushing out the door, determined to make the best of this opportunity.
The sky is painted in shades of pink and orange as the day begins. Birds chirp, filling the air with their sweet melodies as I climb into my car. When I turn the ignition key, nothing happens. Just a clicking sound.
Shit. Probably a dead battery.
I rush back into the house and grab the city bus schedule out of the junk drawer in the kitchen. There’s an eight-ten bus that will get me close to where the café is.
I rush out the front door and turn onto my driveway as I head off toward the bus stop that’s at the bottom of the hill, outside the subdivision. The sounds of the city in the valley below come to life as people begin their day.
And there is Austin, standing at the corner of his property, watching me. There’s a weariness etched on his face and his eyes are heavy. He walks toward me, his steps slow and unsteady, his shirt wrinkled and creased in all the wrong places. He looks hungover.
“Olivia,” he shouts. We both stand motionless, staring at each other. It’s like everything else before now happened in fast-forward, and time has stopped for us in this moment, like I can't move, like I'm rooted to this spot.
He looks so tired, so defeated. Something cracks inside me, a piece of me breaking off. I know I couldn't even if I wanted to, but for a moment, I want to run to him. To hold him and help him.
I swallow hard, my throat dry, and I keep walking toward the street. My feet are heavy and slow. I want to turn around, but I force myself to keep moving forward so I don’t miss my bus.
As I turn from the end of my driveway and onto the street, Austin speaks again. His voice is low and sad, a plea for understanding. “I'm so sorry,” he says. “I know what I did was wrong, and I never meant to hurt you. Please believe me.”
I pause, my heart beating in my chest like a drum. “Didn't you, though?”
“Maybe just to frustrate you, petty bullshit over the house, and the property, but nothing like this, Olivia. I swear. Please.”
“I don't know what I believe anymore, Austin. I'm tired.”
“I know, Liv. I know.”
“It's too much.”
If I let Austin back into my life, it will just be one more issue to deal with. “Austin, we can't keep doing this. We keep going in circles and it's not going anywhere.”
“I know, and I'm really sorry. I screwed up, but I want to make this right.”
“Austin, I can't. I can't do this anymore. I don't want to fight with you or feel like I'm walking on eggshells around you. And I don’t want this to keep happening.”
“I don't expect you to trust me.” His eyes are wide. He's pleading for me to understand, to give him another chance. His lips are slightly parted, and he's standing there, right in front of me, gawking at me like I'm his entire world. I want to believe him. God, I want to believe him. But I just can’t. I need to focus on myself, on my own needs, my own desires. I deserve better than this.
“I don't want to fight with you, but I don't ever want to speak to you again, okay?”
Austin flinches at the sound of my words. His eyes are downcast, his shoulders slumped. He looks broken. But he doesn't try to fight me.
“Olivia, I have…” he struggles for a moment, “feelings for you.”
“No, you don't. Don't lie to me,” I say. It's the most painful thing for me, knowing that he doesn't love me. That it was all a game for him. I wanted to believe in him, to believe that he would be there for me. That he would help me. That I could trust him. But I need to get away from the pain, from the emotional rollercoaster, from everything.
“I don't want to see you or your crazy ex-wife ever again. I don't want to deal with either of you, or any of your bullshit.” I feel a tear roll down my cheek, and I blink it away. I can't cry. Not now. Not when I'm this close to finally breaking free from his grip.
He nods. “Okay,” he says quietly. “I understand.” Austin's face falls, and he swallows hard, as if he's trying to fight back his own tears. For a moment, I'm overwhelmed with a flood of emotions. My heart is heavy. I know that I’m making the right decision, but a small part of me is questioning if it’s the right thing to do. I try to shake off the negative emotions. I need to focus on the positives. I hate how much I still care. I hate that I still want to believe him.
“If you need anything. I'm here, Livvy.”
“I've got to go,” I say. “or I’ll miss my bus.” He doesn't try to stop me, doesn't argue, doesn't plead his case again. I'm done with Austin. I'm done with this cycle of fighting and emotion, of fighting and confusion, and pain.
I'm done with it all.